


Crawl Home

by JamieisClassic



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Farm/Ranch, Anal Fingering, Anxious Thoughts, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, M/M, Masturbation, McHanzo - Freeform, Multiple Orgasms, Mutual Pining, Overstimulation, Praise Kink, Resolved Sexual Tension, Rimming, Self-Doubt, Strangers to Lovers, an indulgent use of pet names, whatever the word is for inexplicably feeling close to someone in too short a period of time
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-09-13 16:09:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 16,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9131737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JamieisClassic/pseuds/JamieisClassic
Summary: Jesse ran his entire life, first with deadlock, then from deadlock, until he finds himself a place too safe too pass up stayin in. He's never trusted people, 'cause there weren't good people to trust, but a small town north of Winnipeg changed his perspective.Hanzo has never had to run, always secure in his life, his honor, his duty, until events following his father's death lead him to the most regrettable decision in his life, and betrayal that forces him to run from everything he was taught to value. He finds himself lost, cold and confused, but the proprietor of a small ranch north of Winnipeg might just change his perspective. Even if Hanzo was found sleeping in his barn, and technically trespassing.





	1. Chapter 1; Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> so because I don't explicitly mention it anywhere Jesse and Hanzo are supposed to be 27/28 in this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My baby never fret none  
> About what my hands and my body done  
> If the Lord don't forgive me  
> I'd still have my baby and my babe would have me.  
> When I was kissing on my baby  
> And she put her love down soft and sweet  
> In the low lamp light I was free  
> Heaven and hell were words to me.  
> \-- Work Song, Hozier

About two and a half hours north of Winnipeg, on the west side of the lake, sat a little ranch with a few horses, some goats, a couple hectares of barley and an American outlaw named Jesse Mccree. No one within an hour of driving knew when or exactly how he came to inhabit the property, and no one any farther than that knew he even existed. Sometimes teenagers would talk suspiciously of that one man which a pistol and a southern accent, but if anyone put the man they knew together with the man with hundreds of thousands of US dollars on his head no one said anything, as was usual for locals. Plus, the man made a damn fine Irish-style whiskey.

One crisp November morning Jesse found himself sitting on his porch with a cigarette watching the sun start to dissipate the mist that had settled over the fields. A neighbour was coming by with hay in a little while so he figured he may as well wait for him outside, just in case rather than coming himself, Jack decided to send his live-in horse trainer Ana. Jesse had nothing against the woman, accept that whenever she saw the sparse inside of his home she liked to comment about the lack of ‘female touch’ and attempt to convince him to go out with one of the local girls. He hadn’t minded at first, until he actually went on one of these dates and was the talk of the town for ages, which was not only a little dangerous considering his bounty, but also downright annoying. Especially when he had no intention of going out with her again. Small town Manitoban girls were not exactly what he was looking for in a life partner.

As he was finishing up his cigarette he heard the telltale rumble of an older truck engine, and smiled. Jack was coming himself. Jesse stood and walked down the steps of his porch to the dirt driveway as Jack’s less-that-creatively deco’d truck pulled onto his property. Apparently Jack used to race the old thing in some weird hic competitions a little while out of town, but even still painting a big ‘76’ on a 1976 model was really rather not creative.

Jack pulled to a stop and hopped out of his truck, greeting Jesse with a smile, “Morning Mccree, you still wait outside just in case Ana shows up, eh?”

“You caught me red handed,” Jesse puts his hands in the air, laughing, “Y’know if ya’d just call ahead I wouldn’t have ta do that.”

“But y’know how much I enjoy seeing my favourite little yank suffer!” Jack grinned at him.

Jesse just shook his head and sighed, “Alright old man ya want any whiskey while you’re ‘ere?”

“You ask that like I won’t say yes,” Jack replied, starting to follow him into the sparse rancher.

Jesse simply laughed and headed inside and down the cement stairs to the simple cellar where he aged and stored his whiskey. He took down two lowball glasses, blowing in them to make sure any dust was cleared, then poured a finger of whiskey in each. Jack was one the few visitors Jesse got, and one of the only ones he actually enjoyed. Although the man had been raised in the area, he had left for a long period of time to serve in the army, and while Jesse’s deadlock days had been nothing near as organized, nor honourable, as peacekeeping with the military, they had both done things they weren’t so proud of and if anyone understood Jesse’s desire for the solitude of the countryside, it was Jack.

The men sipped there whiskey in relative silence, and while they enjoyed each other’s presence in the coolness of the cellar, everything that Mccree never expected to come across hopped out of the hay truck and snuck across his property to a discreet looking building in the back.

 

* * *

 

 

Hanzo took a deep breath and rested against the large still that took up a good portion of the room he was in. From the smell of the place, Hanzo supposed it was probably whiskey being distilled, but he had never been good at identifying liquor by scent. Whatever it was, it neither disgusted nor pleased him so he let himself settle a little where he sat and almost dozed off until he heard voices just outside.

“This is where most of the process happens, eh?” a man with a low, gravelly voice asked.

“Sure is, got myself a pretty copper still in there,” replied a southern-sounding man.

The other man laughed, “What even is a ‘still’?

“It’s a big thing that is used to distill the whiskey,” the southern man answered with a chuckle, “All these years drinking my whiskey and ya finally decide to ask ‘bout it?”

“Guess I got curious,” the man said with what Hanzo pictured was a shrug from the way it was said.

The two men’s footsteps faded, and Hanzo started breathing again when they passed the distillery he was hiding in. Heart still racing, he really thought about everything that brought him to this place. The pain of losing his father, the pressure implemented by his elders in the Yakuza to dispose of his brother and how despite all he wanted to just tell Genji to run he had still slaughtered him. He shuddered at the image of Genji, bloodied and dying, lying in his arms. How he wished it had ended there, but it hadn’t. If Hanzo had been wiser perhaps he would have seen the hunger for power in his elders and simply run with his brother, but Hanzo was trusting by nature, or at least trusted the people his father had taught him would have the Shimadas’ best interest in mind. How wrong his father had been. Hanzo remembers the fear of walking into his own home to speak with the elders only to be faced with the police. He didn’t even ask questions, just ran as far as he could as quickly as possible. Before he knew quite what happened he was on a plane to Vancouver with one of his fake passports and as much cash as he could get from his account in a day.

Once there he let himself breathe while waiting for news about the crimes he had committed. Although Canada had no extradition agreement with Japan, he knew the wrong people realizing who he was would result in the Yakuza hauling him back to Japan, treaty or no. Once the T.V started putting his face in the news he knew he needed to go somewhere quieter, where people were less likely to recognize him, or better yet not able to tell ‘Asians’ apart. He paid for his greyhound east in cash and found himself in Winnipeg a couple days later, then hitched a ride north from there. The man he’d hitched with, a ridiculously oversized German man, stopped on the side of the road to talk to a someone Hanzo never got a look at, and while they were stopped Hanzo snuck into the other man’s truck which was holding hay. That is how he found himself where he was.

Hanzo dozed a little and listened to the men he’d heard talking earlier come by a few times before the silence stretched on uninterrupted for long enough for Hanzo to actually fall asleep.

He awoke in the dark, shaking with the cold. The night was frigid when he stepped out into it in search of somewhere warmer on the property to stay until there was enough light out for him to head somewhere else. There was no way he could stay here, but he also knew that if he attempted to navigate in the dark he would most likely injure himself. His eyes somewhat adjusted to the dark night, and sight aided by the mostly full moon, Hanzo found his way to what he learned upon waking a few horses accidently was the stable. It stank, but horses gave off a lot of heat, and Hanzo found his way to the loft area above the stalls where the soft hay and slight warmth from below dragged him into sleep again unknowingly.

 

* * *

 

 

Jesse awoke to a tapping at his window accompanied by loud meowing. He sighed, how it was the cat somehow knew which window belonged to his room he didn’t know, but his barn mouser could be damn persistent when he wanted to be. Dragging himself out of bed with a groan, Jesse dressed quickly, and headed out of his house through the kitchen, where he started the coffee so that it would be ready by the time he got back. He stepped out of the house in his most comfortable cowboy boots and stetson, and his cat immediately greeted him as he stepped from the back door, meowing as he lead Jesse to the stable with unusual haste.

Once there and up the loft ladder Jesse understood his cat’s anxiousness. There was a man sleeping against some of the hay in the loft. His dark hair was pulled into a tight bun with some of the shorter strands falling out and lying across his face. Jesse could still tell the man was a foreigner from his strange clothes, he could also tell the man must be freezing his ass off, the light silky material of his clothes hardly made to keep a person warm even with full length sleeves.  Jesse knew he should probably wake the stranger and kick him out, but something about taking shelter in a random barn picked at his memories of being on the run and he felt bad kicking the man into the cold he was so unprepared for. It didn’t hurt that the man was also extremely attractive. Unwrapping the serape from his shoulders, Jesse draped it over the other man and headed down the ladder as quietly as he could.

Upon entering the house and pouring himself a cup of coffee, Jesse couldn’t help but think he should probably get rid of him when he woke. Although Jesse was more than capable of protecting himself and doubted the man meant harm, someone on the run would only bring trouble with them. Jesse felt an urge to help the man despite this, wanting to wake the man and bring him into the house to find proper warmth. He shook his head, thinking with the wrong head had gotten him in trouble years ago with deadlock but here he was doing it again. He found himself pouring a second cup of coffee anyway and heading back to the stable to deliver it to the stranger sleeping there.

His cat greeted him when he walked into the barn with judging eyes, almost like he knew what Jesse was thinking. Carefully gripping the two mugs by their handles in one hand, he climbed the ladder to the loft and found the stranger watching him carefully.

“I presume you are the one who put this here?” the man gestured to the serrape laying over himself.

Jesse shrugged, “Guilty as charged. You want any coffee?”

The man seemed to consider the cups in Jesse’s hand before nodding and holding out a hand for the mug, which Jesse handed over with a smile. He sat next the the mysterious man and drank his coffee in silence for a little while while the man woke up a little.

“So… care to tell me why you’re sleeping in my stable?” Jesse asked looking over at him.

“That is a long story. Do you not care to know my name first?” the man said without looking at him.

“Is it being offered?” Jesse teased.

“Did no one ever tell you it is rude to answer a question with another?” the man deadpanned, then sighed, the hint of a smile on his lips, “You may call me Hanzo.”

“Alright, Hanzo-” Jesse was interrupted by loud laughter from the other, “What?”

“I simply forgot how terribly English speakers pronounce my name,” Hanzo replied, stifling his laughter with the hand that wasn’t holding his coffee.

“Well alright,” Jesse grumped, “Where are you from exactly? Japan?”

“Correct.” Hanzo nodded.

“And you’re running from someone other than the cops I presume? If not you should know that you don’t need to hide in the ass end of no where to get away.” Jesse informed him and the man just smiled.

“I’m running from the Yakuza.” his voice was even, but Jesse was unsure whether to believe him or not. If he was telling the truth, however, he needed to be very careful.

“Anyone know where you went?” Jesse asked and when Hanzo shook his head added, “You can stay here a little while if you want, long as no one comes after ya, I don’t wanna deal with that crap.”

“And why should I trust you, cowboy?” Hanzo asked, narrowing his eyes.

“‘Cause I got assholes after my hide too, darlin’” Jesse grinned.

Hanzo rolled his eyes, but sighed and nodded, “Better than trying to hitch a ride somewhere even colder I suppose.”

Jesse laughed and offered to let him borrow some warmer clothes.

 

* * *

 

 

Hanzo found his new host rather strange. First the man had not only allowed him to stay but also offered him clothes to wear, then he had shown him to a guest bedroom and even asked what he wanted to eat for dinner. Hanzo wasn’t sure whether to feel lucky or to be extremely suspicious. When he caught the man trying the check him out subtly, he realized he wasn’t in any particular danger and settled for feeling lucky, at least until the guy decided to turn on a computer and realize there was money on his safe return to Japan. Lots of money.

The southern man had introduced himself as Jesse Mccree as they had walked to the house from the barn, and Hanzo found he liked the way the name felt on his tongue. After he had handed over a few sets of warm clothes and given a tour of the house, Jesse had wandered off to feed the animals and check on his fields, leaving Hanzo to watch T.V in the living room. None of the programs interested him, but he did see a strange comic in a little box next to the couch. They were rather stupid and unrealistic, about a pair of Gauls that had some strange strength potion that helped them beat up romans, but the humor style was entertaining enough to keep Hanzo’s attention for the better part of the morning until Jesse returned from outside.

“I didn’t know ya liked Astrix and Obelix.” Jesse commented, motioning to the comic in his hands.

“Neither did I, they are rather entertaining, though.” Hanzo replied, barely glancing at Jesse, causing him to laugh.

“I was gonna make some lunch, you want anything?” Jesse asked.

“Nothing in particular, but I am hungry,” Hanzo put down the comic, “Is there a way I can help?”

“Well I hope you’re a’ight with grilled cheese then,” Jesse smiled, “And don’ worry ‘bout it darlin’.”

A slight panic stirred in Hanzo, not wanting to impose on his already gracious host, “I’m sure there is something I can do?”

Jesse turned and started to speak, but closed his mouth instead and just looked at him. Whatever it is he found had him asking Hanzo to get the opened bottle of whiskey and two glasses from the cellar, and Hanzo gratefully complied. He headed down the concrete steps into the cool basement and quickly found the small table with two used glasses and a half-full whiskey bottle. Balancing the two cups in one hand and the bottle in the other, Hanzo headed upstairs and right into the kitchen. He washed the cups without really thinking about it, and once he’d dried them he looked up to find Jesse smiling at him.

“Y’know ya coulda taken two clean ones, rather ‘an those,” Jesse teased, eyes twinkling with something Hanzo couldn’t place.

“Seemed a waste,” Hanzo shrugged and placed both the cups and the bottle on the dining table, then sat down on one of the chairs.

Not long after, a plate of grilled cheese was placed before him and a cowboy sat across from him. Jesse opened the whiskey bottle and poured a couple fingers into each of their glasses. Hanzo eyed the amber liquid curiously, before lifting the glass and smelling it.

Jesse snorted, “Is it to your tastes, ‘ur Highness?”

“I have only had Japanese whiskey before,” Hanzo explained, “I am unsure whether I will like this.”

“Wait, hold on a sec. Japan has its own whiskey?” Jesse seemed genuinely shocked, “What’s it like? I mean it’s whiskey but yanno.”

“I have not had it often and have little to compare it to, but I’ve been told it is much in the style of Scotch whiskey, how that differs from this I could not say,” Hanzo gave the glass another appraising look.

“Well I s’pose this shouldn’t be much different, same base ingredients. Might be a tad strong seein as I don’ cut it, but it won’t bite,” Jesse laughed and gave him an encouraging nod.

Hanzo took a sip and winced when the liquor hit his tongue. It was sharp and it burned down his throat as he swallowed, yet there was a pleasant aftertaste and he found himself taking another sip despite the initial flavour. “This is rather good,” Hanzo told Jesse, who beamed from across the table.

“I’m glad ya think so darlin’.”

They lapsed into silence then, eating their sandwiches and drinking their whiskey. When they were finished Hanzo took the plates and cups to the sink and washed them, leaving them in the drying rack to be put away later. Jesse still sat at the table when Hanzo returned and he had the same look in his eye as he’d had earlier. Hanzo remained unsure about what it was.

 

* * *

 

 

Jesse watched as Hanzo dried his hands on a towel before returning to the dining table. It seemed unfortunate to part company with the man so soon after having returned, but Jesse had an exchange to go make and some prep to do before it. He doubted Hanzo wanted to go on an hour and a half long horse ride to drop off goat milk to the farm behind his.

Jesse figured he’d ask anyway, “You ride horses, Hanzo?”

“I learned how as a child but I haven't for many years, why?” Hanzo answered.

“Well, see, I got some chores to do this afternoon and they involve a horse-ridden delivery. Thought you might like to come along after spending the morning cooped up in here.” Jesse offered, smiling but bracing himself for disappointment.

“Well, hmm,” Hanzo seemed to consider and Jesse tried not to get excited, “I think that would be nice. How can I help set up?”

Jesse wanted to tell him he didn’t need to, but considering the way he’d reacted earlier, he figured if the man was offering then he wanted to help. “I could use a hand packing the bottles of milk into the saddlebags, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course.” Hanzo nodded and followed him out of the house.

Jesse kept the fresh milk in a cooler near the goat pen, easier than taking it into the house seeing as he has no intention of drinking it, and the bags he carried it in next to said cooler. He opened the cooler and checked the seals on the three bottles he was going to pack up for delivery, then got Hanzo to hold the bag in place while he wrapped each in a frozen gel pack and arranged them side by side, standing up in the bag. They then headed to the stables and Jesse let Hanzo get a feel for the horses while he packed up his pack-pony. He named her Sally because her markings kind of reminded him of the character from the Nightmare Before Christmas.

When Sally was ready to go, Jesse helped Hanzo saddle the sleek black friesian that seemed to take a liking to him, her name was Summer, then saddled his own horse, Sam, whom he’d named such because he figured it was as good as name as any for a massive thoroughbred.

They headed out of the stable and mounted, then riding at a quick walking pace entered the small trail through the woods behind his property that lead to Amelie’s property where she lived with her wife. When Jesse first moved he hadn’t really understood why the woman sounded French, until Jack explained that the woman was Metis and was raised speaking French, or some variation of it anyway. All Jesse thought about it was that her accent made her sound a little more authoritative when she insulted his cowboy style.

It was a long ride and while Jesse was used to doing it in silence, there was something about watching Hanzo ride one of his horses while wearing his clothes. He was almost starting to regret bringing him because just glancing over made his tongue feel like it was stuck to the roof of his mouth and he became all the more aware of the silence. Hanzo, however, seemed more than comfortable and enjoying the ride through the small wooded area between the properties, so Jesse focused on not saying anything to change that.

“It is beautiful here,” Hanzo said, seemingly to himself, but he looked over at Jesse anyhow.

“Yeah… Took me awhile to get used to the leaves fallin’ in the winter,” Jesse shrugged, thanking whatever deity was listening that he hadn’t choked on his own tongue, “Trees don’t do this kinda stuff in New Mexico.”

Hanzo chuckled at that, “Yeah, I would imagine it doesn’t get cold enough in the desert.”

“It can get chilly but never cold. Not like this,” Jesse replied, “I miss the heat sometimes.”

“I always used to ask to go to a warmer part of the country in the winter, I never had much care for the cold,” Hanzo looked sad as he spoke, the way people look when they’ve lost something dear, “My brother used to say I was delicate, teased me to no end. He went to New York for school briefly, and he returned with this thick wool scarf for me. Tried not to make a big deal out of it but he always did care, even if didn’t show it.”

Jesse’s ear caught on the ‘did’ in that sentence, but decided not to say anything. If the man wanted to tell him he would. Thankfully for Jesse he didn’t need to say anything else to fill the silence because a spotted spaniel came bolting down the path barking at them, a short-haired woman following on foot with a rifle strapped to her shoulder.

“‘Ello luv!” she called and gave Jesse a wave.

“Lena! What’re ya doing round ‘ere?” Jesse asked, eyeing her rifle.

“Huntin wit Tracer’s all, maybe lookin’ for a duck or somethin,” the dog gave a happy bark at the sound of her name and Lena laughed, “Who’s ya friend?”

“My name is Hanzo,” he answered before Jesse could.

He looked uncomfortable which Lena must have caught onto for she gave them both a smile and moved past with her dog to find some game, “Well, it’s good seein ya Jess, gotta go so ‘Lie doesn’t get impatient. See ya round luvs.”

Jesse watched Hanzo slowly relax as they kept their horses moving forward towards Amelie’s property. While Hanzo kept his gaze off in the distance to admire the forest around them, Jesse took the time to admire him. A strong jaw, sharp cheekbones, and something severe in his face that made Jesse a little scared and a lot hot for the man only served to add to his attractiveness. It was truly a wonder, or perhaps a miracle if Jesse still believed in those, that this man was quite literally dropped in his lap. Maybe the universe had decided his immense loneliness over the past ten years was punishment enough for his crimes, or perhaps this was its worst form of punishment yet; a man he could not have and hardly deserved being taunted in front of Jesse despite the fact that that man would leave shortly was a cruelty of some severity.

By the time they reached Amelie’s property Hanzo had relaxed completely from their interaction with Lena and Jesse had nearly driven himself mad with the internal back and forth of the potential good or bad of Hanzo’s staying with him.

 

* * *

 

 

Hanzo noticed he looked mildly agitated which he had initially attributed to meeting this woman who they were heading to, but upon seeing Jesse completely relax the minute he saw her he concluded he was incorrect. Now, Hanzo began to think more about what it could be that distressed his host so, hoping it was not his own presence that had Jesse on edge, but did not have time to think on it too deeply when said man bounded over and gave him a bright and excited introduction to the (french?) woman standing before them.

Her name was Amelie, married to the woman they had met earlier, and had a most terrifying ability to make one hope they would be considered acceptable when she appraised them. She was currently appraising Hanzo and he, for the first time in a very long time, felt some need to squirm. The elders’ gazes had nothing on this woman.

She raised an eyebrow and looked to Jesse, “I was not aware you were taking in strays?”

“When have you known me not to be a charitable gentleman?” Jesse asked with a sarcastic gesture.

She snorted, although it somehow seemed elegant, and looked back at Hanzo appraisingly again. It seemed as if she might say something, but she didn’t and turned back to the house with a gesture over her shoulder for them to follow.   

They brought the milk in for her and then helped pack freshly darned socks and shirts, plastic containers of soup and a small bag of potatoes she gave them in return. Hanzo was a little alarmed, but supposed unless Jesse wanted to have to go clothes shopping often he would need his clothes regularly repaired, and the soup was probably a nicety.

They loaded the items onto Sally and began heading back. Although Jesse seemed to like Amelie quite well, she was either not fond of him, or simply didn’t like guests, for once the exchange was done they were politely escorted back to their horses. Hanzo got the feeling that the woman from earlier, Lena he remembered Jesse saying, was the friendlier of the couple, and not by an insubstantial amount.

The ride back was quiet like before except that since Hanzo had already observed the beauty of the woods he was less distracted by it this time and observed quite easily just how much Jesse like to watch him. That isn’t to say he didn’t like to watch Jesse as well, just that Jesse was substantially less subtle than he thought he was being, and about as observant as one might expect. Or perhaps more and simply decided not to comment on the appreciative glances Hanzo was giving him, though Hanzo felt that would be out of character. What he did know was that a very attractive cowboy with a decent sense of humor and some beautiful horses kept looking at him like he was god-sent and he was not quite sure how to feel about that. He wanted to feel appreciative but couldn’t help feel he didn’t deserve the praise or admiration.

They arrived back at the ranch soon enough and Hanzo went to help unload Sally immediately. Jesse gave him the soup and potatoes and told him where to put them in the kitchen. Something about his body language seemed more tense and terse than it had been earlier and Hanzo hoped everything was alright. He thought back to how distressed Jesse seemed earlier and hoped again that he was not the cause of it, and almost wanted to ask, but decided that he would rather leave Jesse to his thoughts and hope he said something if Hanzo did anything to bother him.

When the soup had been placed in the freezer, and the potatoes in the pantry, Hanzo wasn’t sure if he should head back to the stable to help put tack away and brush the horses or just stay in the house and give Jesse some space. He settled for asking if he needed help with anything and figured Jesse would sent him back to the house if he wanted to be alone.

The walk back to the stable was short and he didn’t have time to parse the strange ball of anxiety that was growing in his chest, so when he reached the open door he just tried his best to ignore it. What he didn’t manage to ignore was overhearing Jesse talking to someone.

“He’s just so pretty, yanno.” He sighed, “Not that you probably have any capacity to understand human beauty but still. I don’ wanna scare ‘im and he’ll probably be goin soon so I shouldn’t say a damn thing. I really shouldn’t.”

The horse he was speaking to, Hanzo assumed it was one of the horses anyway, huffed, and Jesse laughed, “Don’t you go bein a bad influence on me now.”

Hanzo wasn’t sure quite what to make of what he heard. He knew Jesse was talking about him, and he’d figured Jesse found him attractive from the way he’d looked at him earlier, but there was something particular about his tone of voice that Hanzo couldn’t quite put together. It was familiar in a way, but Hanzo had no way of placing, whatever it reminded him of must be old and distant in his mind.

Then he realized quite abruptly, when it sounded like Jesse was heading out of the stall, that he was most certainly not meant to hear that and had no idea what to do. The decision was made for him by way of the cat. It scratched against the barn door briefly before running off, making the door sound like it had been bumped into and his entrance was much later than is had actually been.

“Oh, hey Han,” Jesse said with a grin, coming out of the stall fully upon hearing the door rattle, “What’cha doin back?”

“I figured I might be able to help put tack away and brush the horses, if you wanted the help,” Hanzo shrugged, hoping he sounded as casual as he was. He was glad to see that Jesse’s tention from earlier dissipated between then and now.

“That’s mighty kind of ya, I’ve got the tack put away but Summer still needs a her hooves picked and a good brushing if you’d be up for it,” Jesse threw him a bright smile, clearly pleased Hanzo had interest in his animals.  


“Of course, do you have extra tools? I’m presuming you are working on Sam or Sally at the moment?” he replied.

“I just finished up with Sam, actually, but I should clean the saddles and get their feed ready. Here,” Jesse went into the stall he’d just left and came out with a little box full of various brushes and a pick, “You can use mine.”

Hanzo closed the gap between them somewhat stiffly and took the box from him. Jesse pointed him to Summer’s stall and he gave the man a smile as he headed over. Summer was as beautiful as he remembered, tall and elegant with glossy black hair, wavy mane and tail untangled and flowy. He ran a hand down her neck and she huffed at him, shaking her head a little.

He started by picking the dirt and mulch from her hooves, then worked on to brushing her flank, focusing on where the saddle had been. He found it rather therapeutic, really, working the fine dust and dirt from her coat with careful motions then whisking it off with a different brush. He finished off with combing out her mane. He noticed himself cooing at her a little in Japanese as he finished up and started to wonder when he’d started doing it. He also wondered when the ball of anxiety had disappeared from between his ribs but didn’t question it.

He came out of the stall just as Jesse was heading towards it with a pail of food for her. “All done?” he asked.

Hanzo nodded, “Where should I put these?” he lifted the box of tools interrogatively.

“I’ll take ‘em from you,” Jesse placed the pail of food in Summer’s stall and closed the door, “I have a few things to work on here, you head back in where it’s warmer. You could take a shower if you’d like, feel free to use whatever’s in there. There are towels in the closet between your room and the bathroom.”

“Oh, thank you. A shower sounds lovely actually.” Hanzo replied, thinking back to when he’d last showered. A few days at least but close to a week in all likelihood. He usually liked to shower daily and found himself again grateful of Jesse’s hospitality while also feeling it was hardly deserved.

“Yeah you go get cleaned up, I’ll meet you for dinner in a while,” Jesse grinned and took the box from Hanzo, “Thanks for your help today.”

“It’s nothing really, thank you for your hospitality,” Hanzo suddenly felt shy and made an escape to hide it, “I’ll see you in a while.”

He would not say he fled, that was far too undignified a word, but he did remove himself from the barn in a rather hasty fashion. Once he was back in the house he decided to adamantly not analyze the interaction that had just gone on and take a hot shower to clean off the grime of almost a week on the run.

After grabbing towels and picking a new set of clothes to wear once he was clean, he headed to the washroom and  quickly undressed, turned on the shower and placed himself under the hot spray. For a few seconds at least he just stood there and let the heat sink into his bones. Although it got quite cold where he’d lived in Japan the weather here was far colder than he was used to and it was nice to be warm again.

He lathered his hair and washed out the oil and grime, which made him feel monumentally better even if he hadn’t realized how bad he’d felt before doing it. As he massaged conditioner into the ends of his long hair he found his mind drifting due to how basic the task at hand was. Normally he would be going over something from a meeting or considering a pending agreement with a potential business partner, however now he had no such thing to occupy his mind and it settled for Jesse instead. There was something peculiar about the man that Hanzo found both confusing and comforting. He never asked questions even if he looked like he might, leaving Hanzo to wonder whether he thought better of it or if he wasn’t interested. Accepting Hanzo into his house without knowing what his situation really was, for example, left Hanzo spinning a little. This was not at all aided by the brilliant grin the man occasionally threw his way, nor the way his flannel shirts fit so nicely over his biceps and back. Despite not wanting to admit it to himself, he did find Jesse rather attractive, and rather sweet, and couldn’t quite help but hope he didn’t intend on turning him out too soon.

From what Hanzo overheard in the barn, Jesse was just as fearful of their parting too soon, and the prospect of staying for a little while was becoming more appealing by the hour. A gracious host who lent him warm clothes, then cooked him lunch, took him on a horse ride through the woods, let him brush down the beautiful horse he’d ridden, was very attractive and happened to think he was attractive as well added up to good prospects, but he still feared overstaying his welcome accidentally. He rinsed the conditioner from his hair and tried to push away the anxiety creeping in, swirling into his thoughts with protests that he did not deserve this, he didn’t deserve Jesse. It was right, he knew it, but he didn’t want to listen even still. For the time being he would rather think about how pretty Jesse was with a bright smile on his face and some sweet tone in his voice when he seemed constantly awed that Hanzo wanted to help him out with chores.

From there he let his mind drift as he lathered some soap onto a cloth and went to work scrubbing the dirt from his pores. Paying special attention to his forearms to make sure the dirt he brushed off the horse didn’t stick to him for too long, then moving onto his shoulders and neck, he wasn’t aware quite how his apparently creative imagination was affecting him until one hand absently smoothed down his abdomen. When soapy digits brushed against his half-hard cock and startled a moan from his mouth he froze, embarrassed. He wasn’t sure at what, that he was getting hard thinking about the low timbre of Jesse’s voice or the fact that he literally startled himself for how self-unaware he’d been, but it took him a minute to relax all the tensed muscles and resume his bathing. Or attempt to do so, anyhow, for now that he was aware how simple thoughts of Jesse affected him, he couldn’t quite seem to make himself think of anything else. His mind continued to imagine and he continued to find it arousing, such that even if he’d wanted to simply finish washing and get out of the shower he was too hard to reasonably do so. He could turn the water cold to force his body down, but it was so cold outside and that was crueler than he cared to be to even himself. So he gave up the fight and let his mind and body do as they pleased. Which is how he found himself, minutes later, resting his forehead against the glass shower door, one hand stroking his twitching cock the other between his asscheeks teasing his rim, half moaning obscenities and Jesse’s name, silently praying the man was still occupied outside somewhere.

 

* * *

 

 

Jesse stepped into the house with a sigh of contentment for the warmth. He may have become accustomed to the cold of Manitoban winters but at heart he was a desert child and yearned for the warmth of New Mexico. At least it got pretty warm here in the summer. Shucking his boots and coat, he headed to his room to change into more house appropriate and less dirty clothes. As he headed down the hall his consideration of whether or not laundry was due to be done stopped dead at a loudly shouted “Fuck” from the bathroom. Hoping Hanzo hadn’t hurt himself somehow, he started toward the door, planning to check on him, but paused when the word was repeated softer, breathier and higher in pitch.

Oh... _Oh._ Well, Jesse recognized what that meant and decided to leave the man in peace. He knew damn well how much tension could build up when one had to run from everything they’d ever known and loved, and he had no desire to take away whatever outlet Hanzo needed to relieve that tension simply because hearing curses tinged with his accent made Jesse’s brain nearly short-circuit. Taking a deep breath, Jesse forced his legs back into motion and almost made it a few steps before something else caught his ear.

“Je-” Hanzo hiccuped, a sound soft enough to barely be heard over the spray of the shower, “Jesse. _Jesse_ , oh fuck…”

 _I should go, I’m not supposed to be hearing this,_ Jesse thought to himself, and very much did not go anywhere. He stood stock still in the hallway and listened to one of the most beautiful people he’d met in years moan his name while jerking it in the shower. Christ he was not prepared to deal with this. He should leave, but that wouldn’t change that he’d heard it, and would not make it any easier to look the man in the eye without wanting to bend him over the nearest solid surface the next time they saw each other, so he stayed. He leaned up against the wall next to the door, listening to Hanzo’s moans and palming himself through his jeans. If this was as close as Jesse ever got to fucking him, he could die a happy man.

Too soon Jesse’s hips were stuttering into his palm as he came in his boxers, hand clasped tightly over his mouth to keep himself quiet. He took a deep breath through his nose and tried calm himself down, listening still to Hanzo moaning thought it was tapering off and Jesse assumed he had come as well. Probably more than once considering how long he’d, presumably, been at it. That or he had a stamina of steel, which was equally hot to think about, in Jesse’s opinion.

With the end of Hanzo’s moans came the end of the shower, however, and Jesse made a beeline to the back door in a panic the minute he heard the water turn off. Making a point to shut the door loudly, then drop his boots, he headed again down the hallway to his room without stopping. Once alone he realized how ridiculous he was being, and couldn’t help but feel like a little kid hiding the evidence of whatever he’d done wrong. He sighed and stripped off his clothes, cleaned up around his cock with the shirt he’d had on and changed into new but not particularly clean clothes. Typically what he wore around the house he wore for a few days to save on laundry, and he didn’t see why having a guest of sorts should change that.

He stepped out of his room about the same time Hanzo stepped out of the bathroom wearing a borrowed crew-neck sweatshirt emblazoned with the Winnipeg Jets logo (a gift from Jack) and an old pair of jogging pants. What Jesse really noticed, however, was the silky black hair falling over his shoulders down to near his waist. The bun the man had left his hair in left its length a relative mystery, and Jesse had not for a second guessed it would be half that long. Not that he was displeased, nothing like that. If anything Hanzo just became even more attractive in Jesse’s mind. Both men froze in the hallway, staring at each other.

Had Jesse been observant at that moment, he would have seen the blush darkening Hanzo’s cheeks and the embarrassment in his eyes. However, Jesse was too busy marveling at his hair to notice anything, and far too distracted to accidentally send the man a knowing look like he may have otherwise.

“Ya didn’t tell me your hair was s’ long,” Jesse muttered, continuing to look at him in mild awe.

“I was unaware it would be relevant,” Hanzo replied stiffly, clearly uncomfortable having to face Jesse for so long after recent events.

“Well, darlin’, I s’pose it’s only relevant to how pretty I think ya are and the relevance of that’s up to you,” Jesse kicked himself the minute the words left his mouth. Hanzo was clearly already agitated by Jesse being there he didn’t need to make it worse, “I’m sorry, that was inappropriate. Please forget I said that.”

“And if I decided it was relevant?” Hanzo asked, a blush still dusted his cheeks but now he looked less like a deer caught in headlights.

“Have you?” Jesse looked up at him a little shocked, trying to gauge just how flirtatious it was okay to be.

“I was speaking hypothetically.” Hanzo stated smugly, stepping closer to Jesse a little

“Well, _hypothetically_ , I s’pose what you did with that… decision,” Jesse drew the word out stepping forward to invade Hanzo’s space, forcing the man to tilt his head back to meet Jesse’s eyes, “would be completely up to you, darlin’.”

“Is that so?” Hanzo’s blush was even brighter than earlier and it only worked to bring out the playful glint in his eyes.

Jesse came to a startled realization that this was a totally different Hanzo than he’d interacted with before. Considering they’d known one another less than twenty four hours it was perfectly reasonable that he didn’t know who Hanzo was at all, but it was still a little alarming to see someone who’d been stoic and perhaps even shy become suddenly so coquettish. “Of course, your wish is my command.”

Hanzo snorted, “That was cheesy and you know it.”

“What can I say, I’m over the moon for you,” Jesse grinned down at him and he scowled.

“Stop with that American nonsense,” he scrunched up his nose but the corners of his lips twitched like he was holding back a smile.

“That’s hardly nonsense, ya shoulda heard how my pa used to talk,” Jesse laughed at Hanzo’s grimace, “I could demonstrate if you’d like?”

“I believe there are better things you could show me with that mouth,” Hanzo deadpanned at him, one delicate eyebrow raised, and Jesse choked on his own tongue.

Well fuck, how was he supposed to respond to that? Before he could figure anything to say he was saved by the bell. Literally. Then the pounding on the door that succeeded the ring of the doorbell. And when he wasn’t there in 2.5 seconds his name was shouted loudly and tinged in an egyptian accent.

“Be right back, darlin’,” Jesse smiled apologetically to Hanzo and raced to the door to save himself from (some of) Ana’s ire.

Throwing the door open with a guilty smile he was met with a very angry and mildly agitated older woman, and he said a small prayer to whatever deity was listening that at least some of that anger was directed at something other than himself.

“Ana, good to see you-” he was cut off by her abruptly entering his home and slamming the door behind herself.

“Is he still here?” she asked sharply.

“I’m sorry? Do you mean Hanzo? How do you even know he’s here?” Jesse looked at her with confusion and she sighed.

“The boy you brought to Amelie’s, there is a small group of men coming around asking for him. She kept her mouth shut and they left her alone after a few questions, but that probably has to do with her glare than anything.” Ana sighed again, “I’ve come to get him, if we give him to them now they won’t come by here and won’t have the chance to recognize you.”

Jesse balked, “No way. You ain’t takin’ someone runnin’ from the Yakuza and givin’ ‘em right back. That ain’t right Ana and you know it.”

“You don’t understand Jesse,” Ana insisted sternly, “They told Amelie why they’re looking. They say he-”

“I don’t damn well care what they _say_ he’s done, don’t care what he has done either. I’ve done my share of unthinkable things, so’s Jack, so’ve you but we’re here stickin’ up for each other. Why’re y’all so eager to feed him to the wolves?” Jesse ran a hand through his hair in exasperation, “C’mon Ana you’re the smartest of all o’ us can’t you come up with a better plan than that?”

“Why do you insist on protecting a man you hardly know?” Ana nearly shouted, “And no, there is hardly another way out of this. Jack is trying to keep them occupied but they’ll get bored of his ramblings soon enough. Save yourself Jesse, please.”

“That coulda been me Ana. This coulda been Jack’s ranch and me hidin’ up in his barn. This coulda been Deadlock or some ‘Merican bounty hunters illegally lookin’ over the border come to bring my head on a plate to the feds. Wouldn’t you’ve put your own security on the line for that? Haven’t you?” Jesse was all but  begging and Ana sighed, nodding. They both knew they were both right.

“I do not mean to interrupt,” Hanzo said quietly, walking into the entry and living room from the kitchen, “This house, it was built before the crisis, no?”

“It was built in 2037. But why is that significant?” Jesse replies. He’d researched the house when he first moved in to make sure it was stable and what repairs would need to be done and what would need to be replaced.

“Would it not have shelters? In case of an omnic attack in the area? I know it is a sparse area and unlikely to be targeted but from what I know it was made a requirement during the crisis.” Hanzo replied.

“Even if you can hide that does not help. Jesse is a fugitive and his face has been all over the news many times. If even one of these men recognize him his life could very well be ruined.” Ana said slowly as if speaking to a child, and scowled when Hanzo chuckled.

“It is a good thing you are here, then.” Jesse and Ana share a unconvinced look, Hanzo rushed to explain, “the small car out front is yours, right? So it would be reasonable that you might want a truck for hauling and a car for driving. Most Japanese people don’t own cars anyway, these men will not doubt you having two. Also, women with Yakuza ties are, well, usually for profit or to produce children. Old organization, old thinking. This means, however, that your… sternness will come as a surprise. If you tell them they cannot investigate they will probably be dumbfounded enough to leave especially if you stand your ground.”

“You’re saying I should pretend I own this house and live alone? Despite all the male clothes and such lying around?” Ana did not seem to like the idea, but to Jesse it made a lot of sense.

“You could say you have a son, but he’s out right now. Maybe that he went down to Winnipeg for a few days for a Jets game or something,” Jesse nodded, “This could work Ana!”

“And what if they attack? What if they realize I’m lying?”

“I mean this in the kindest of ways, ma’am, but you seem more than capable of incapacitating four Yakuza grunts.” Hanzo replied, seeming to be cautious with his words so not to anger her.

“Hmm,” she grunted, “Well I can’t go refusing now without admitting I am incapable. Smart move. Alright, you two go to the shelter under the distillery. I’ll try to get them to leave as quickly as possible. Let’s hope this damn well works.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not done yet! Just kinda stuck on the smut rn, but all in all very close to being done the second chapter. This was not really meant to be this long, but it is really too long to put all in one chapter so here's the first half(ish) and I'll post the rest after I get some sleep and write the smut.


	2. Chapter 1; Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yo all the thanks to those three special peeps who left me comments on the first chapter, it got me through my writers block. *sends you my love*

“C’mon darlin’ we’re wastin’ daylight,” Jesse called as he threw on a coat and boots, tossing some to Hanzo as well. 

“Wasting daylight?” Hanzo snorted as he but on the coat and scarf he’d been handed, “Is that from a movie or something?” 

“I mean yeah, probably, but in this case it's true too,” Jesse grabbed a blanket from a shelf and ushered Hanzo out the door, “Sun sets in maybe ten minutes and the distillery ain’t got workin’ lights. Don’ wanna get caught in there in the dark.” 

“Alright, fair enough,” Hanzo muttered and picked up his pace. 

They hurried across the property at a near run, only walking as a means to not make each other panic. Hanzo’s mind was swirling. He’d been pragmatic minutes ago, it was instinct to do so, a trait that had been favored when he was young and in training. The problem was that the pragmatism usually dissolved and left him panicky and anxious, which was fine if everyone bad had died, but not so fine in a situation like the one he was currently in. 

Jesse led him into the distillery just as the day was turning to twilight. The building was as dark and cold as Hanzo remembered it being from when he’d first hidden in there. Thankfully, once situated in the shelter that was behind quite a few various tubs and bags and rather far from the main door, Hanzo found himself sitting in a cramped space with a comfortably warm person who had been smart enough to bring a blanket. The close proximity, however, meant it was impossible to mask the stuttering breaths and shaking that were resulting from the anxiety seizing his chest. 

What the fuck was he doing, putting an innocent, uninvolved woman’s life potentially on the line so that he could stay here. It was lunacy. Further, it was far more than he deserved to ask or expect of anyone. He couldn’t protect or save the one person he’d had left that he cared for but here he was begging strangers to protect him. Hypocrisy at its finest.

A warm palm against his lower back startled him out of his spiraling internal tirade and opened his ears to soft words whispered against his temple, “You doin’ alright doll?” 

“Fine,” Hanzo croaked. 

“Doesn’t sound that way, but you don’ have to tell me anythin’ you don’t wanna,” Jesse murmured, “Is me touchin’ you alright?” 

Hanzo made an affirmative sound and soon found a warm arm curling around his waist and pulling him against a solid chest. His head was still swirling, stomach cramping with butterflies and lungs feeling too tight, but there was comfort in Jesse’s touch and he just tried to concentrate on that. And breathing. Breathing was important.

All his effort was fucked when the sound of the distillery door slamming open made both he and Jesse jump. They were probably dead. So was that woman (Ana?), presumably, and gods he’d fuck this up. He should have gone to the men, been taken home and just accepted his fate. This was far worse, unforgivable. As if he needed more unforgivable actions on his conscience. 

Footsteps from above wandered for a bit, and Hanzo felt hope bloom in his chest that they wouldn’t be found, but then the steps grew closer. Small streams of light from a flashlight flickered through the small slats on either sides of the trapdoor, and Hanzo froze. The steps got louder until they sounded like they were just outside and before he quite knew what happened he was enveloped in Jesse’s arms, back to his broad chest. It took a second to realize he was the one shaking, and tried to breathe evenly but he had rarely been this terrified in his entire life. Judging from the breathily muttered spanish words Jesse kept uttering he was in the same situation. 

The trap flew open. Rather than being met with a gun wielding Yakuza grunt, however, a chuckle alerted them to the presence of the woman who’d stayed in the house. Jesse relaxed behind him, and Hanzo attempted to even his breathing and still his shaking body. 

“C’mon you two, coast is clear. We should have a chat though, to make sure this doesn’t happen again.” With that the woman turned and left, leaving Jesse to slowly release the man in front of him and straighten up. 

“Damn woman didn’t leave us any light source,” he grumbled as he helped Hanzo to his feet. 

They both crawled out of the shelter and Hanzo held Jesse’s arm as he tried to feel their way out of the building. He succeeded, thankfully quickly, in finding a side door and they were soon enough in a starlit expanse of field. The open space helped Hanzo even his breathing, finally being able to catch his breath after what felt like far too long. He looked up into the sky and paused, “I’ve never seen this many stars.” 

Jesse huffed a little laugh, “Yeah I s’pose comin’ from the city you ain’t used to stars.” 

“Where is the moon though, it was very helpful last night and, from what I saw, mostly full,” Hanzo inquired softly.

“Ahh, she ain’t up yet. Won’t be round for an hour or so,” Jesse shrugged, “Let’s go inside, I’m sure Ana’s gettin’ impatient by now.”

Hanzo followed him inside and, once divested of coats and boots, into the living room to join Ana. She had a sternness to her that really was rather intimidating, and he found himself hoping she didn’t demand he leave, because he would not have the will to disobey. 

“Please sit,” Ana motioned to the sofa, and when Jesse and Hanzo were seated continued, “You were correct in assuming they would be intimidated by me. They left rather quickly without many question, similar to how they treated Amelie, that does not mean that they will not return, however. I must ask, how is it you found yourself so soon after the… incident in Japan?” 

“I knew almost immediately after that things were not going as I had been told they would. I got as much cash as I could, flew to Vancouver then a day or so later took a bus to Winnipeg. I hitched a ride with a… very large german man then jumped into the hay truck that brought me here.” 

Ana smiled, “I’m not surprised Rein would pick up a sad, cold looking stranger. And also not surprised he stopped on the road to speak with Jack. Unfortunately for you, Rein is a rather unmistakable man, and popular with people in Winnipeg. I suppose someone saw you hitching with him and reported you with hopes of getting some of the bounty.”

“That would make sense, yes,” Hanzo nodded, “What do we do now?” 

“That, my dear, depends on your host,” she motioned to Jesse and the man shook his head.

“Your welcome s’long as you like, doll,” Jesse informed Hanzo softly. 

Ana raised an eyebrow but did not comment. Hanzo began to wonder if perhaps this was uncharacteristic of Jesse, but Ana continued speaking and he didn’t get the chance to wonder for long, “And if the man wants to stay forever, Jesse?” 

“S’pose I’d have the break the hearts of all the local girls and stop callin’ myself a bachelor,” Jesse grinned, Ana delicately pinched the bridge of her nose, and Hanzo felt himself blush a furious red, “Sorry doll, that is awfully presumptuous of me,” He added sheepishly to Hanzo. 

Hanzo said nothing, blushing even more than before. Ana gave them a strange smile and, despite the fact that he was confident she had more to say, excused herself for the night and headed for the door with a handshake for Hanzo and a kiss on the forehead for Jesse. 

“I would have thought she had more to say,” Hanzo pondered aloud and Jesse snorted.

“Oh I’m sure we won’t hear the end of it tomorrow,” he had a bright smile in his voice, and when Hanzo turned to ask what he meant, Jesse just waved him off, “What did you want for dinner darlin’?” 

“I don’t have any particular preference. What sort of ingredients do you have?” Hanzo asked, which made Jesse pause and purse his lips, “You do have ingredients right?” 

“I mean I have potatoes from Amelie… and some cheese and bread. Other than that,” Jesse trailed off and seemed to be considering as he continued walking into the kitchen, “Oh! ‘Ve ya ever had french toast?” 

“French toast… like a baguette toasted?” Hanzo asked honestly.

Jesse burst out laughing and couldn’t seem to stop, ending up on his ass leaning against the cabinets with his face on his knees. Hanzo was confused, “I don’t understand what is so funny.”

Taking a deep breath Jesse explained, “French toast is,” he snorted, trying not to laugh, “Bread dipped in eggs and fried. Ain’t got nothin’ to do with the French.” 

He continued to laugh into his knees while Hanzo wrinkled his nose, “You put bread in eggs? Why? How does that taste good?” 

“It just does? I don’t know…” Jesse seemed to sober at the mention of French toast being bashed, “Anyhow, I’m going to make you some so that you become a believer. If you don’t like all the stupidly sweet food Americans eat I’m kicking you out.” 

“Oh…” Hanzo nodded, remembering just how little he knew this man and how fragile that offer to stay might be. He didn’t remember when he’d forgotten. 

“No, no, darlin’ I didn’t mean it like that. It was a joke, I ain’t kickin’ you out ‘less you wanna leave.” Jesse had such honest concern in his expression that Hanzo couldn’t help but smile reassuringly at him, even if he felt a little shaky. 

His smile was returned and Jesse went to work on dinner, though Hanzo was pretty sure it was breakfast food he was making. Jesse instructed him to sit at the table and Hanzo did so, watching, with a fondness he hadn’t known he could feel watching someone do something so menial as whisking eggs and adding vanilla and milk to them, as he prepared the meal. 

Jesse collected the finished pieces on a plate that went into the oven to stay warm, at Hanzo’s insistence that they eat together of course, and when everything was done said plate was placed on the table. As Jesse put the dishes in the sink to be washed later, Hanzo grabbed two plates and cutlery, setting a place for himself and Jesse, then sat at down again and waited for Jesse. When they were ready to actually eat, Jesse had to grab extra things from the fridge that apparently went on the pieces, Hanzo served himself a slice of French toast and cut off a corner. Looking up, he noticed the curious excitement in Jesse’s expression and laughed a little to himself. 

“Is it going to become habit for you to have me trying something new every time I sit at this table for a meal?” He teased. 

Jesse smiled, “Only if you like tryin’ new things, doll.” 

Hanzo made a noncommittal noise and looked at the little chunk of bread on his fork dubiously, “I do like trying new things, but this seems odd.”

“It’s better with syrup,” Jesse motioned to the bottle on the table, “And this is the good proper maple syrup that comes right from Quebec.” 

Placing his fork back on the plate, Hanzo picks up the bottle and studies it. He’s had maple candy in Japan that he quite enjoyed, but it was made from genetically engineered maple trees designed to grow in the Japanese climate and may very well taste nothing like this. He pours a small dollop of the syrup onto his plate, dips the bread on his fork in it and pops it in his mouth. 

Jesse has a look on his face reminiscent of how one may look when their favourite part of a movie their friend is watching for the first time is about to come on. When he tastes the sweet maple and vanilla flavours of the toast and syrup Hanzo understands why. Whatever it is Jesse has fed him is delectable and makes his repressed sweet tooth light up again. 

A bright look gleams in Jesse’s eyes making Hanzo snort, “You look far too excited because I like your cooking.” 

“Well, doll, can’t really say I’ve had anyone to cook for before. Didn’t know it could be so rewarding,” he explained, taking a bite of his own meal. 

Hanzo considered this while chewing but didn’t really know what to say, and diverted the conversation instead. In hindsight it wasn’t the best decision. Or perhaps it was, he couldn’t really say. 

“Why do you call me all those names?”

“Well, first of all ‘cause you made fun of the way I say your name with ma silly accent,” he paused, trying to look irritated at the way Hanzo nodded but only grinned, “And second, ‘cause I think you’re real pretty and sweet and I could probably fall in love with ya if given the chance.” 

Hanzo choked on his food, trying his best to finish swallowing before speaking, “We’ve known each other less that a day. I literally broke into your house!” 

“Yeah but I mean I’d ‘ave done the same in your position. Have done so actually. And I mean you’re still here dealin’ with my weird shit ain’t ya?” Jesse offered but Hanzo just sighed. 

“I needed shelter and you offered it, yet you think it’s special that I stay with you?” he asked blandly. 

“Earlier today that’s what I’d’ve thought too, but consid’rin’ recent events we both know you’d be safer bein’ long gone by now,” Jesse smiled a little to himself, “Plus I ain’t sayin’ I trust you, no offence, just that, I don’ know, I like you somethin’ fierce.” 

“I… Suppose you have a point. And I will admit that the prospect of staying is, umm, nice,” Hanzo stared adamantly at his plate. 

Jesse snorted, “Nice? Well someone’s feeling descriptive.” 

“Maybe it’s so nice I don’t know how to say it in other words,” Hanzo shot back at him, then realized his words and went back to staring at his plate with a blush on his cheeks. 

“Eat up, doll, it isn’t half as good cold,” Jesse said softly, and Hanzo was thankful his slip wasn’t going to be commented on. Not for now, anyway.

When all the French toast was gone Hanzo cleared the plates and started washing everything. Jesse put away the dishes from lunch, then helped dry and put away the dishes from dinner as well. They were rather efficient and soon found themselves standing in the kitchen together without much idea what to say or do. Hanzo wouldn’t call it awkward, but that was only because he didn’t want to admit just how damn awkward it was. 

“If you don’t mind none I think I’ll take a shower then call it a night. It’s been a rather interesting day. Feel free to watch something on tv or read or whatever, you don’t have to go to bed just ‘cause I am,” Jesse gave a smile then headed out of the kitchen towards the bedrooms, leaving Hanzo alone with his thoughts. 

Despite not being particularly tired, Hanzo decided to head back to his room, though he did take a few of the comics he’d been reading earlier just in case he couldn’t sleep. He may not have felt the exhaustion left over from many days without sleep and a rather stressful day full of far too many new things, but the minute he curled up in the comfortable double bed in the guest room it all seemed to crash in at once. Only a few pages into the first of three comics he’d brought he found himself struggling to keep his eyes open. He returned the comic to the side table and turned off the lamp before falling asleep. 

 

* * *

 

 

Jesse walked out of the bathroom, damp hair sticking to his neck, and noticed that not only were the lights in the kitchen and living rooms off, but there was none coming from Hanzo’s door. Fair enough, though, the man had probably hardly slept while on the run, too much pent up anxiety and fear to get any good shut eye. In a way, Jesse felt a little warm for the fact that Hanzo felt safe enough in his house to sleep, but played it off to himself with the man’s likely exhaustion. 

Unfortunately, trusting those he slept around was rather a requirement for Jesse, and as gorgeous, sweet and intelligent Hanzo seemed to be, he wouldn’t trust him with a penny. It wasn’t that he thought the man would do harm, only that his brain and history dictated that any and everyone he knew had to prove beyond any doubt that they  _ wouldn’t  _ before he was able to sleep with them around. He knew the effort would be fruitless, but Jesse was tired as hell and figured he could try anyway. 

Laying in bed and staring at the ceiling was more fun growing up, he thought, because there were little glowing stars to look at. Now there is just an expanse of black, no ambient light from outside to lighten the room to a blue-black like in the city, and a deathly silence that made even the smallest of noises sound like thunder to his ears. He curled onto his side and pulled the heavy comforter up more, trying to relax into the warmth enough to drift, and found some success save that every little sound had him jerking into full awareness that took him ages to settle down from. 

He’d forgotten in the last eight years what it was like with other people in his space. Eight years of living alone with no one less that a half hour drive would do that, he supposed, and damn was he lucky for the lot he’d gotten. Thinking back to when he first arrived, he wondered if this was how Jack and Gabe felt when he first showed up at the gas station in a stolen truck wearing torn up clothes and stinking to high hell, and they offered him a place to stay. Well, Gabe offered him a place to stay and Jack balked, making Jesse wonder if he’d accidentally caused a future divorce, but they talked and maybe it was because he was only 19, or maybe because both ex-military men knew what someone who’s seen too much hell for their age looked like, they took him in for a little while. He had to work the farm, do physical work they couldn’t be bothered to do, but he was grateful as hell. Ana helped him get this place, convincing Amelie to “sell” it to him even though he hardly knew how to run a ranch nor could legally buy property. Actually, she still legally speaking owned it, though she would never use that as a means to regain it, especially seeing as he gave her nearly a million bucks in cash for it. Perks of being one of few live and unprosecuted members of a notorious gang booking it north, he supposed, loads of cash was left lying around and thankfully Amelie didn’t quite care how that cash was earned. 

Living alone for so long was coming back to haunt him now, however, and after many hours of tossing and turning, occasionally slipping into light sleep, he gave up got out of bed. He threw on a pair of old, loose sweats and a white v-neck undershirt he found lying on the floor, so he wouldn’t get cold before he could turn the heat up or start a fire in the fireplace, then headed into the kitchen, noting it was just past two as he left his bedroom. Heading down the hall, he noticed light coming from the kitchen and wondered if Hanzo had woken up as well, or if perhaps he’d come to get a drink earlier and left the light on accidentally. As he got closer he smelled mint and figured Hanzo found the box of mint tea Ana had given him for his birthday the past April. She did it every year and he politely gifted every box back to her each christmas, not really liking tea of any kind and finding coffee a far more efficient way of getting caffeine in the morning. She didn’t seem to mind, so the trend continued, though maybe not for long. 

“Fancy meetin’ you here,” He greeted Hanzo, who was seated at the kitchen table, hands warming around a mug of tea.

Hanzo looked up from the table he’d been staring distantly into and opened his mouth to speak but stopped. He closed his mouth, swallowed, took a deep breath and said, “I figured you were asleep, I hope I didn’t wake you.” 

“Not at all darlin’, I don’t usually sleep that well.” Jesse shrugged and turned around, reaching up to grab a glass from the cabinet, having to hold the waistband of his sweats up when they tried to slip a little too far down his hips, he grumbled under his breath, “Damn pants.” 

He went to the fridge and pulled out the gallon of milk, which he got from Jack’s friend once a week and which he would normally drink from the jug if there wasn’t someone else in his home, and poured himself a glass before returning it to the fridge. Bending over to put it away did not help with his pants but he doubted Hanzo cared much. 

Upon turning to face him and leaning against the counter Jesse realized he was wrong, though perhaps not in the way he had meant. Hanzo was staring rather avidly at Jesse, or more specifically, the section of skin revealed between where his shirt had ridden up to near the top of his hips and where his pants were hanging dangerously low, his knuckles were white from how tight he was gripping the mug of tea and his jaw was clenched so hard it showed. Jesse wasn’t quite sure why he was surprised, but he was, and a little flustered in all honesty. It had been a while since anyone’d looked at him quite like that. 

“You, ah, doin’ alright there doll?” Jesse asked, startling Hanzo out of whatever state he’d been in and causing the man to look away and blush. His grip on the mug did not lessen, nor did the tightness in his jaw. 

Hanzo took a deep breath through his nose, as if preparing to speak, and suddenly stood, mug of tea left behind and chair nearly tipping over, making his way over to Jesse very quickly. It definitely didn’t go unnoticed that Hanzo himself was actually wearing nothing but socks, grey briefs and the oversized crewneck he had been earlier. He gripped the waistband of Jesse’s sweats tightly, and Jesse froze, but instead of pulling them down, he repositioned them to a polite height on his hips and began to tie the drawstring. Jesse quickly deposited the glass of milk he was holding on the counter and slid his fingers over Hanzo’s, effectively pausing them. 

“Not quite the direction I was hopin’ you’d be goin’ with my pants, darlin’,” He huffed, staring at the way Hanzo’s hands were practically in his pants. It really didn’t help that Hanzo was not wearing any pants and their positioning put Jesse’s hands quite close to a very noticeably half hard cock the he now very much wanted to touch. 

“Is that so?” Hanzo drawled, voice low and a little rough, making Jesse look up to meet his eyes. Hanzo stepped forward just a little and dropped his hand just enough to grab Jesse’s cock through his pants, crowding him against the counter, “Because I thought you said something about everything being up to me, so what you were hoping doesn’t matter, hmm?”

“Yeah,” Jesse mumbled, groaning as he feels himself getting hard fast, hips twitching into Hanzo’s almost too tight grip. Whoever told him as a child that his dreams would never come true was a dirty fuckin’ liar.

Hanzo palmed him roughly and Jesse’s legs shook. He was probably far more affected by this that he should be, but when he dug his fingers into the muscles of Hanzo’s arms and buried his face in the dark hair draped over the man’s neck he couldn’t bring himself to care. Soft lips brushed against his neck, no harsher than a breath before pulling away, then returned as the hand on his cock withdrew to a teasingly light touch, but this time teeth scraped and dug into the muscle just above where his neck met his shoulder. Jesse shouted in surprise but the sound settled as a gurgling groan in his throat.

“Fuck, Hanzo…” he murmured, and the high pitched whine that slipped out of his throat was cut off as Hanzo gripped Jesse’s hair and tugged his head back roughly, eyes full of mischief when Jesse met them, “You up to no good darlin’?”

“Perhaps,” Hanzo gave him a lazy smile, “Tell me something Jesse, how long’s it been for you?”

“I, uh-” he groaned when Hanzo pulled his sweats down past his balls and squeezed his cock, “Fuck… over eight years, probably.”

“That’s a long time, poor thing,” Hanzo cooed, and god did he sound hot when he did that, “Hmm, perhaps I should help you make up for it.”

“H-how d’ya mean?” Jesse stuttered while his hips jumped into Hanzo’s loose grip, trying desperately to concentrate on Hanzo’s words not his hand.

“I was thinking I’d like to see just how many times I can make you come,” Jesse’s knees buckled, but thankfully the hand Hanzo had on his cock was around his waist in an instant, holding him up, “Hush, sweet thing, you’re fine. Is that something you’d like?”

Jesse melted inside. Sweet thing.  _ Sweet thing.  _ He wasn’t sure he had a voice anymore so he just nodded despite the tight grip in his hair, trying to get his legs up underneath himself at the same time. When he couldn’t manage the latter on his own Hanzo released his hair and used both hands to hoist him up onto the counter with strength Jesse hadn’t know he possessed.

Once securely on the counter, Hanzo’s right hand returned to where it had been on Jesse’s cock, the other remained resting on his hip. He pulled back the foreskin to thumb under the head and watch precome drool down, collecting some on his fingers to tease down the shaft with, then gently wrapped his fingers around to stroke back up. Curling and circling over the head and gathering more precome in his palm, Hanzo started a slow motion up and down the shaft, grip just a little too soft to do much other than tease and make the cock in his grip twitch.

Sharp teeth at the base of Jesse’s throat has his hips shifting up and Hanzo chuckling against his skin. Taking one hand off his shoulder, Jesse ran his fingers into thick black locks and pulled Hanzo into a kiss. It was soft, a contrast to the increasingly rough strokes of his slightly calloused palm and fingers, but that just made it better; chaste little kisses sending just as many shudders through Jesse as the harsh movements on his cock.

Wrapping his left arm around his hips, Hanzo pulled him forward until his ass was just about hanging off the edge of the counter, forcing Jesse to lean back against the cabinets. It was not a particularly comfortable position, and they couldn’t kiss, but when a finger slicked in precome slipped between the cheeks of his ass to tease at his hole he couldn’t process enough to complain. Despite having little to no purchase in this position he desperately tried to rock back onto that finger, finding himself far more sensitive there than he remembered being, and like a flip being switched he was suddenly very, very close to the edge he’d been carefully skirting since Hanzo’d grabbed him through his sweats.

Hanzo barely got the knuckle of that single finger worked in and Jesse was coming, cock twitching and spurting come onto his abdomen as a calloused hand stroked him through it.

“Fuck,” he swore breathily, eyes shut and head resting against the cabinets, then removed his hands from Hanzo’s shoulder and hair to rub them over his face, “Fuck. Jesus fuck, Hanzo.”

“We’re just getting started, sweet thing,” Hanzo laughed when Jesse whined at the pet name, “You like it when I call you that, don’t you?”

“Yeah s’pose I do,” Jesse mumbled, finally removing his hands from his face and looking Hanzo in the eye, “Really like you in general actually.”

“I gathered that, yeah,” he smiled and helped Jesse off the counter, kissing him once he was securely on his feet.

It devolved from there, soft kisses turning harsher with teeth and tongues, and Jesse ended up pressed against the counter again, Hanzo between his legs grinding a very hard erection into the space where his leg met his hip and moaning into his mouth. Must have been the prettiest thing Jesse’d ever heard, especially the breathy little gasp he made when Jesse palmed his ass and subsequently made him grind harder against him. A palm securely placed in the center of his chest had Jesse pause and Hanzo moved away a little, “Pretty sure I promised to see how many times I could get you off, so if you want me to fuck you at some point let me cool down a little now.”

Jesse swallowed audibly, throat suddenly dry, “Yeah, yeah okay. Bedroom?”

“That’s probably a good idea unless you keep lube in your kitchen,” Hanzo stepped away and took his hand as he walked towards the hallway. Jesse followed happily, not bothering to pick up his sweats from where they’d dropped to the floor some time earlier.

On the way, Hanzo grabbed a towel from the linen closet. It was promptly stolen by Jesse who tried to use it to whip him in the ass, though that failed when Hanzo caught it before it could connect and stole it back, jumping out of Jesse’s reach with a laugh. Shaking his head and grinning, Jesse walked as menacingly as he could manage still half laughing towards Hanzo, who was walking backwards and twirling the towel teasingly like a skip rope while holding the two ends. He waited until Jesse was a long stride away then leaped forward, surprising Jesse and managing to swing the middle of the towel he was holding around Jesse’s neck and pull him down into a kiss. It was more laughing and giggles than kisses, and Jesse could swear he hadn’t been this happy around another person, nevermind because of another person, in a long time. He crowded Hanzo against the wall, hands on his hips, and kissed him properly, letting each press of lips linger a little longer than the last until it was nothing more than a slow slide of teeth and tongue.

Hanzo let him up by releasing one end of the towel and pulling the other down so it was no longer around his neck. They stayed like that, foreheads and breathing together, for a few moment before pulling back, and when he did Jesse was met with the prettiest eyes that had probably ever been known to man. It wasn’t so much that Hanzo hadn’t been beautiful earlier, just that those deep brown eyes, which had turned more pupil that iris and glittered as they reflected the hall light, looked up at him so softly framed by a warm flush that highlighted his sharp cheekbones. Jesse realized suddenly, with a strange sort of resignation, that he would do nearly anything for this man. It was absurd, he knew that, but there it was.

“I ever told you how pretty y’are?” he mumbled, bringing a hand up to gently brush the long strands of his hair back from where they stuck to his cheeks.

“Not enough times,” he teased and Jesse just shook his head, grinning.

He took a step back and offered a hand for Hanzo to take, which he did, and they continued their walk to the bedroom. Once inside, Jesse removed his shirt and retrieved the lube from where he kept it in the bedside table, then rearranged the covers on the bed so that they were all against the far wall and out of the way. When he was ready sat on the bed waiting for Hanzo who was still standing across the room looking at him curiously.

“What I proposed earlier, are you actually interested in that?” Hanzo asked intently.

“You mean, uhh, seeing how many time you can make me come?” Jesse swallowed thickly when Hanzo nodded, “Well I ain’t done nothin’ like that but it sounds pretty great.”

“Oh it is, but it… Have you ever used a safeword?” He deposited the towel on the side table and sat next to Jesse on the bed.

“I don’t think so, but I’ve heard of ‘em,” Jesse offered.

“That’s something, I suppose. It really shouldn’t be discussed in a situation like this, so we should have a better conversation about it later, okay?” He continues when Jesse nods, “For now I want you to say ‘red’ if you actually seriously want to stop and I will pull away completely. You can say ‘stop’ or ‘don’t’ as much as you like, but I won’t know you actually want me to unless you use your safeword.”

“Yeah, that makes sense. I can do that,” Jesse affirmed, prompting Hanzo to get off the bed and remove his sweatshirt.

Jesse stopped breathing. His eyes followed a sleeve tattoo in shades of blue and white up Hanzo’s left arm from just above the wrist to his shoulder and pectoral, then down to the silver barbells that went through his nipples. Hanzo chuckled and came to stand in front of him, placing the tattooed arm on Jesse’s shoulder and leaning into his space so long black hair spilled around his shoulders, “See something you like, sweet thing?”

Swallowing hard, Jesse managed a soft, “Yeah.”

“Good. Could you lay front down for me, please?” Hanzo motioned to the center of the bed and Jesse rushed to comply, making the man smile fondly.  

Jesse laid on his stomach, burying his face in his arms and relaxing into Hanzo’s warm hands running down his back soothingly. A gentle grip tilting his hips up encouraged him to pull his knees slightly underneath his body and curve his spine into the mattress more, which allowed Hanzo to run lubed up fingers between his cheeks with more ease. His touch was light, teasing almost, but it had Jesse shifting up into it every time those fingertips slightly caught on his entrance. Hanzo chuckled, “So sensitive, sweet thing. Can you spread a little for me?” he cooed, and when Jesse shifted his legs farther apart in compliance he added a muttered, “Good boy.”

Jesse groaned, hips rocking back against the fingers gently massaging lube around and slightly into his hole. Without so much as a word of warning Hanzo slid his finger all the way in and Jesse made an aborted shouting sound that was really more of a sharp whine than anything. As the digit began to move, slowly pumping in and out, he forced himself to relax around the intrusion so that the stretch would be easier. His muscles loosened enough for Hanzo to add a second finger, which made Jesse feel shaky and not all too sure whether it was in a good way or a bad way until those fingers curled a little inside and were dragged over his prostate. His hips stuttering up trying to chase the sudden searing pleasure had Hanzo stroking his lower back soothingly, even as Jesse whined, high pitched and needy, against the mattress.

“Shh, you’re good. So good,” Hanzo murmured as he began to move his fingers again, carefully pressing into the soft, slicked muscle and testing its give.

A deep breath helped Jesse steady himself, and he found himself drifting into the sensations coursing through him almost passively, letting his hips rock back as they pleased and his arms brace against the headboard for better leverage. Soft fingers combing through his hair brought him back a little and Hanzo paused his motions entirely when he couldn’t get Jesse’s full attention, “I need you to stay with me Jesse, can you do that?”

“Stay with ya?” Jesse slurred, not realizing how complicated speaking had become.

“Yeah, like this. Talk to me, tell me how it feels,” Hanzo twisted his fingers just right to enunciate his point and Jesse groaned.

“It’s good,” his voice was reedy and weak, “so good, fuck it-it’s just… Oh fuck.” Jesse’s nails dug into the headboard as he pushed his hips back harder into the press of Hanzo’s fingers, moan catching in his throat when teeth scraped over one the cheeks of his ass. As he sucked marks into soft skin, his unoccupied hand came from where it was resting on Jesse’s hip to spread his cheeks farther apart, thumbnail tracing lightly over his stretched rim and Jesse whimpered shakily. He felt hot all over, climbing up and up to a familiar peak that he was so eager for, except that he just hung there on the edge as the sensation built and spread until he finally fell and shook through wave after wave of full-body orgasm.

He felt oversensitive to every touch, muscles weak and quivering, as Hanzo petted down his spine soothingly, “Good boy. Relax sweet thing, you did so, so good.”

Jesse took deep breaths but felt like he was panting. When hands gently guided him to lie on his side he let them move him, too boneless to be bothered to move himself. Lying on his side was more comfortable, and became much more enjoyable when Hanzo lied down facing him, smoothing a hand down his side and giving him a soft kiss.

“Good?” He asked, hand ruffling Jesse’s hair affectionately.

“As in was that good or ready to go again?” Jesse squinted at him.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Hanzo sat up, turning to kneel next to Jesse then repositioning him so he was lying on his back. A pillow was put under his hips so he wouldn’t have to hold them up, but Hanzo still had Jesse hold his own legs open at the knees, “Just like that, very good.”

What a sight it was, Hanzo and his mischievous little smiles between Jesse’s legs, slightly calloused thumbs massaging his inner thighs lightly so he would relax into the touch. He reached to the side to grab the bottle of lube, coating his fingers again and pressing two in straight away, smile broadening as Jesse squirmed. Small circular motions created a consistent pressure that was kept by his left hand at the joint between Jesse’s inner thigh and hip, grounding him.

Still somewhat sensitive from his last orgasm, every press of fingertips into his prostate had him jolting and jittery, and Hanzo took full advantage of his distraction to reposition such that he was lying chest down propped up on one elbow. He leaned forward and bit into the back of Jesse’s thigh, delighting in the moan that it pulled from Jesse’s throat. Little nibbles trailed down and across his legs until Hanzo could tongue at his taint, then down to his entrance. It was an awkward position but Hanzo hardly cared when Jesse made the sweetest, most pathetic little whimpers as he pushed his tongue against his rim, testing the give of it around his fingers. His left hand moved down to lift Jesse’s ass a little higher and give himself a better angle and perhaps it was the movement itself or the altered angle of his fingers inside, but Jesse’s whole body tensed and a ragged moan filled the room.

 

* * *

 

 

Working his fingers harder at the angle they’d now found, Hanzo was giddy with the noises Jesse was making. Soon, Jesse was tensing up, winding tighter and tighter until he was screaming and coming again, cock still only half hard. Unlike the time before, however, Hanzo did not pause in his ministrations completely, instead he simply lightened and slowed the touch, causing Jesse to not really come down from his high. He seemed to float on the feeling for a while as the orgasm worked its way through his body, then the pleasure started edging into being a whole new concept of too much almost to the point of pain.

Moving his mouth back over to Jesse’s thigh, Hanzo nipped sharply at the skin leaving pink marks dotted on his inner thigh. The pricks of pain seemed to both settle and aggravate his state, his body twitching and shifting with each. Hanzo replaced these little bites with kisses as he began to work his fingers more roughly again, curling them at just the right angle to drag over Jesse’s prostate with each pass. Despite his lack of anything to say previously, Jesse’s keens and groans had mumbled words slipping into and around them. Most were curses, or words in what Hanzo thought might be Spanish, and they filled the room in rising pitch and volume.

Hanzo worked his fingers harder with freshened vigor and a small hiccuping sob slipped from Jesse’s lips as reward for his efforts. Pulling himself back into a kneeling position, he surveyed the man below him, flushed red and shaking with near-sobs, with a growing urgency to his own arousal. Watching Jesse fall apart like this was worth it, though, especially when he looked down at Hanzo with watery eyes and begged him to stop, tears slipping down his cheeks when he didn’t.

“Please, please please please,” his words were thick with tears, “I fuckin can’t Han please fuckin stop. Fuckin please.”

From there he devolved into broken sounds and Spanish words spread over sobs, every muscle tense as Hanzo worked to force another orgasm from his wrecked body as it twitched and shook. “Come on now, sweet thing, just a little more,” he cooed, leaning over Jesse’s torso to place a kiss in the center of his chest.

Jesse’s mouth opened on a scream that didn’t make it past his throat, body too tight to let out air until all the tension let out at once as he came, turning completely boneless beneath Hanzo. As delicately as he could, he slowly slipped his fingers out and leaned past Jesse to get the towel on the side table to wipe them off with. He also used one soft corner to clean some of the tears and drool from Jesse’s face delicately, leaving little kisses where he’d wiped. The towel returned to the table and Hanzo laid down on his side, free hand petting down Jesse’s chest soothingly.

“You alright, Jesse?” He asked, placing a kiss on his shoulder.

“I, uh, think ya broke me,” Jesse rumbled with a voice that was clearly raw from overuse.

“I’ll consider that a success then. When you have the energy you’ll probably want to take a shower to clean up,” Hanzo spoke softly, finding himself tired from the ordeal and his relatively shoddy, dream-ridden sleep earlier that night.  

“What about you? You didn’t-” Jesse protested, but Hanzo cut him off.

“I am good. Really, very good after that. Don’t worry yourself,” He patted Jesse’s chest and shifted so he way lying closer.

“Let me guess, gonna take care of yourself in the shower again once I pass out like this?” Jesse mumbled sleepily, and Hanzo knew it would be best if he at least wiped him off before he fell asleep, but something caught his attention.

“Wait, again?” Hanzo asked and, when Jesse only laughed softly, realized, “You heard, oh my god.”

He hid his face against Jesse’s shoulder as the man laughed again, “It was hot darlin’, got me in a state I’ll tell you.”

“It’s still embarrassing.” Hanzo grumbled, then sighed and pulled away to look at Jesse, “You aren’t going to get to a shower before you fall asleep are you?”

“Doubt it darlin’, ya tuckered me out,” He smiled sheepishly and Hanzo just shook his head.

Grabbing the towel from the table Hanzo gently wiped the lube from Jesse’s ass and legs, then dropped it onto the floor along with the pillow that had been used to prop him up. He reached over Jesse and unfolded the comforter and blankets from where they’d been shoved, snuggling up next to Jesse as close as he could.

“I have a question, Han,” Jesse rumbled softly, Hanzo quietly preening at the nickname, “I was felt like my muscles were gonna explode I was so tense back there, how’d you keep up the fingering? Like your arm must be killin’ ya.”

Hanzo laughed softly, “I have been training in archery since I was very young. Of all the muscles on my body, those in my arms, shoulders and upper back have the most strength and endurance. That isn’t to say I wasn’t tired, though.”

“Mmm, you’ll have to shoot for me sometime. I’ve only ever been good with a revolver,” Jesse mumbled, falling asleep as he spoke.

Hanzo felt himself following, not even bothering to turn off the lamp before drifting off with a warm chest under his head and a strong arm around his back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks y'all for reading this monstrosity! also the scene in the kitchen near the end (you know the one) was based of this lovely piece of art by hon-art on tumblr http://hon-art.tumblr.com/post/146020900914 . They're work's fantastic, I'm sure you've seen it. Btw I have tumblr (my url is the same as my name on here) so come say hi if you want!! 
> 
> ps: I will probably come back and edit this later I didn't get much chance to so please point out any glaring grammar stuff, I would really appreciate it.  
> pps: I have like 3 epilogues I want to write and I'll probably write 0 of them but idk
> 
> Edit: y'all leave the best comments so I'm gonna work on a 2nd chapter, it may or may not be up before Jan 3rd which is when classes start, pray for me.


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